The inside of the Copper Basin smelt of wet concrete and metal. Of ozone and burnt dust. Of synthetic alcohol and the stale smoke of old burning incense. Far below the streets of Anthropolis it sat. For decades now, a forgotten relic of a time long ago. Built into the remnants of what was once a subway station, Sullivan Vane had done his best to create a haven for himself in a world that was no longer his own. A mix of new world and old, the former Traditionalist didn’t have much. But what he had was his own.

His clientele was exactly the kind of people you’d expect to frequent a run down dive bar. Loyalist scum of the lowest order…the bloody thirsty volunteers with morales even lower…those hiding, wishing not to be found. Those with nowhere else to go. And so it was that Sullivan was not at all surprised as he looked up from wiping down the bar. His head tilted towards the commotion that had kicked up at one of tables that ran in a row along the middle of the room. Two surly yet unintelligent men loyal to the Amoralist regime had wandered over to another patron.

Despite the eyepatch he wore, and the years that kept advancing on him despite his best efforts, he could see the trouble coming a mile away. He turned, checking the perch near the entrance where his bouncer normally sat. The seat was empty.

Sully: Son of a bitch…

He muttered under his breath, his eye scanning the room. He stood upright, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he shouted down towards the end of the bar.

Sully: Hey! You gonna handle this or what? The fuck am I paying you for?

He crosses his arms, glaring towards the large man seated at the end of the bar. His size was impressive even from a distance. The man spun in his stool, so his back was no longer facing the old bartender. He glanced back at Sully.

Patron: Are you talking to me Pops?

The man spits back, a look of slight confusion on his face. Which you could easily call both rugged and handsome. Sully rolls his eyes and gestures.

Sully: Not you ya halfwit, her!

The patron turns to follow the direction to where the bartender was pointing and realizes it ends at the statuesque redhead he had been chatting up.

Patron: You?

Bia: Yeah me…

She says in her thick Australian accent with a sigh, the hand she had been carefully working up the man’s thigh falling limp to her side. She moves away, the space between the two once again forming. She looks around the man towards her boss.

Sully: C’mon Bia, get over there!

Beatrice “Bia” Blythe just rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed that her attempts at hitting on the gorgeous man were spoiled.

Bia: Calm your tits mate, I’m on it…

She replies, not seeming to be in any particular hurry to toss the denizens out on their asses. She turns to the man, running a finger playfully under his chin.

Bia: You keep that cute little arse of yours parked right here big boy. I’ve gotta take care of the old bloke's problem but I’ll be right back.

She reaches for the drink the man had ordered for her. Sullivan storms over, slamming his hands on the bar.

Sully: I SAID NOW, GOD DAMNIT!

The owner screams at her.

Bia: AND I SAID I WAS ON IT SULLY, FOR FUCKS SAKE!

She shouts back at him before downing the drink and slamming the glass on top of the bar. She immediately winces as the synthetic alcohol slides down her throat, burning all the way to the core of her.

Bia: Jesus H. Christ mate, the fuck you puttin’ in there battery acid?

She asks sarcastically as she makes her way towards the two men who had now pulled the third patron up out of his seat. Bia could see they were about to put a beating on the poor guy, as the pair had the man by the scruff of his jacket.

Bia: Oi!

Bia shouts, getting the attention of all three as their heads turn.

Bia: You two derro pieces of trash wanna play grab arse, get the fuck outside! Otherwise, cut the shite, sit the fuck down and drink your grog like a couple of happy little Vegemites, yeah?

The pair look at each other smirking before sharing a laugh.

Thug 1: Or else what?

Thug 2: You gonna make us?

Bia scowls, crossing her admittedly impressive arms over her chest.

Bia: Somethin’ like that yeah…

The two men clearly looking to press her let go of the third man. The pair clearly seeing more fun to be had with Bia. The third man, wisely, drops a few Amoralist credits on the table and hightails out of the joint. The two thugs saunter over to Bia like a couple of Jackals eying a fresh meal.

Thug 1: Something like that huh?

Bia: Did I bloody stutter or are you two fuckwits hard of hearin’?

Thug 2: We hear you fine…we’re just curious what exactly you’re gonna do.

Bia looks between the two.

Bia: You’ve got about three seconds before you find out.

She says with a growl. The two men laugh pressing in on her as she stands her ground not moving an inch. Her eyes darted between them.

Bia: One…”

She says in a tone similar to a mother who’s been pushed to the edge by an unruly child.

Thug 1: Two.

Thug 2: Thr-!

The word catches in his throat as Bia lashes out, headbutting the thug on the bridge of his nose. The crack of his cartilage can be heard as his stumbles back allowing Bia to deliver a sharp, decisive kick to the side of his friends knee. Both men cry out in both surprise and pain. The first thug clutches at his bleeding nose, his friend stumbling over clutching his knee.

Bia simply cracks her neck, turning to dodge a wild swing from the bloke with the broken nose. She returns one to the breadbasket knocking the wind out of him, before stomping down hard on his foot. As he doubles over Bia grabs him by the back of his head and drives him face first into the table. She's grabbed from behind by the second, mule kicking him right in the balls before whipping her head back right in the face.

Bia turns, seeing the first coming back over. She quickly grabs the half drunk glass of alcohol left on the now empty table, throwing the contents into his face. He screams, the alcohol burning his eyes and skin. Bia spins around, smashing the glass against the other thug’s head. The glass fractures, opening up a nasty cut on his scalp. Bia grabs him on a cravat hold, yanking him down brutally as she drives her knee into his face once, twice, thrice, four times!

She lets him go, the man dropping with an audible thud. She hears a scream and turns in time to see his friend rushing at her with one of the tables' chairs. Bia ducks, then drives and lifts, using his own momentum to flip the man. He goes ass over tit, landing on the table behind her. His weight caused it to explode beneath him. Bia quickly rushes over, grabbing a wristlock and torquing his hand and arm painfully behind his back. Her knee and leg pressing on his neck with all her weight.

Bia: Wallet! NOW!

The man whimpers, frantically digging in his raggedy clothes before producing his wallet in a trembling hand. Bia grabs it with her free hand.

Bia: Yours! Toss it over!

She screams at his friend who was just getting his bearings but looked to be in no mold for any more punishment. He tosses his wallet near Bia, the blood from his head running down part of his face.

Bia: Now get. The fuck. OUT!

She roars, the thug's fingers breaking under her grip as she gives him a final going away present. She stands, watching as his friend picks him up, the pair making tracks out the door. Bia shakes her head before reaching down and picking up the second wallet off the floor.

Bia: Here, catch.

Bia nods to Sully as she tosses the two wallets to her boss who starts going through them. Bia collects the credits off the table as she walks over to the bar, tossing them to Sully.

Bia: Enough there to cover the damages?

Sully: Looks to be. Just.

Bia nods as Sully pours her another drink, her eyes falling to the far end of the bar. The handsome stranger was long gone. She couldn’t blame him, but it still annoyed her. Suddenly a quiet clap can be heard coming from one of the booths along the wall behind her. Bia turns to look over her shoulder and spies the source. A large, well built man in a suit with a dark complexion claps as he finishes standing.

Bia hadn’t noticed him at all up until now. Had he been there the whole time? It was like he had blended in with the furniture. Bia turns away taking a sip of her drink.

Freddie: Excellent. Just excellent.

Bia: If you enjoyed the show, pay the man…

Bia quips as she gestures to Sully with the hand holding her drink. The man walks over, sitting on the stool next to Bia.

Freddie: Oh, I did enjoy the show. Anhellica was right about you. I really should stop doubting her. But it’s not him we wish to pay…

He holds out his hand.

Freddie: Where are my manners? Frederick Styles.

Bia looks at him, down to his hand, and then back up as she claps his with hers. They share a firm handshake.

Freddie: Hell of a grip you’ve got Ms. Blythe

Bia: Eh, I’ve never had any complaints…

She says with a cheeky grin as Freddie removes a folder from his inside jacket pocket. He sets it on the bar and slides it towards Bia.

Freddie: As I was saying, it’s not Mr. Vane we wish to pay for such entertainment. We’d prefer to pay you directly Ms. Blythe. I’m sure you’ve no doubt heard of the Colosseum.

Bia: Yeah, what of it?

Freddie: Following the Infernalia tournament, we’re in need of some erm…fresh blood, so to speak. And the powers that be have had their eyes on the lookout for awhile. As they used to say in the 20th century Ms. Blythe, ‘We. Want. You’.

He says, punctuating his point with a playful poke to her arm. Bia scoffs and finishes her drink.

Bia: Youse want me? To fight for you? In the Colosseum?

Freddie: Fight for us? No. Fight for *you*! Anhellica is aware you’re not…from around here, shall we say? Were you to agree I’m certain Anhellica will move heaven and Earth to ensure you get back home. We’ve even taken the liberty to select your first opponent.

Bia opens the folder, seeing the detailed dossier of Tyler Anderson. Bia scans the documents, looking at the picture of the wiry Anderson. She doesn't seem overly impressed, or was doing a stellar job of hiding it if she was.

Bia: Tyler Anderson huh? Hmm…doesn’t look like much. But he is a CWF Hall of Famer. Teaches Karate…wait, it says he’s a tag team guy?

Freddie: Oh he is, one of the best. But don’t let that fool you, he’s been around a long time. And I’ve heard he’s interested in dipping his toes into the singles space. You know, just to see how he’d go. And *you’ll* be his surprise opposition!

Bia pauses, reading more about Tyler. He definitely had the height and strength advantage. Bit Bia had been fighting and wrestling blokes bigger and stronger than her, her whole career.

Bia: How many fights?

Freddie: It’s a standard rolling contract. We’ll see how well you perform and can renegotiate further down the track. That way neither of us is a loser should things break down.

Bia: These fights…they to the death?

Freddie: Generally no, but things have been known to escalate quickly in the Colosseum. Will that be a problem?

Bia: Nah…just curious.

Freddie: And don’t worry about your accommodation, we have a special place picked out right in the heart of Anthropolis. You’ll have access to Medibots whenever you need as well as a training facility should you need.

Bia flips to contract.

Bia: Sounds a bit too good to be true mate.

Freddie: Who says good things don’t happen to good people Ms. Blythe? All you need to do is win and we’ll handle the rest.

Bia looks back over to Styles.

Bia: I don’t have me gear…

Freddie: I know a guy who just might be able to help with that.

Freddie digs a business card from his breast coast pocket and hands it to Bia. She looks at the card…

Otto’s Oddities
Collectibles - Artifacts - Unusual Finds
We Buy! We Sell! 24/7 365!
Nothing is turned away! Let's make a deal!
Otto Blackwood - Purveyor

Freddie: Tell him Freddie sent you and he’ll take care of you.

Bia chuckles and pockets the card. She catches Sully's eye, the owner spending his time pretending to wash glasses as he was no doubt listening in. Bia sighs and looks over at Freddie.

Freddie: Do we have a deal?

Bia: … … …fuck it. Where do I sign?

Freddie lets out a big laugh as he smiles and flips to the appropriate page of the contract. He pulls out a pen, flicking a switch. A small blade pops out of the end. Bia looks at it half joking.

Bia: You aren’t serious are you? I gotta sign this thing in blood?

Freddie: Anhellica is a bit ‘old world’ about it.

Bia holds out her hand as Freddie uses the blade to make a small cut along the length of her index finger. Once the blood begins to flow Freddie flips the blade back and turns the pen tip down. He gently sucks up a bit of her blood before handing her the pen. Bia takes it, pausing and giving Sully a look. The one he returns says this sounds like a bad idea. Bia gives him a subtle shrug before signing her name in her own blood onto the contract.

Freddie: Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! Ms. Blythe your world as you know it has just changed for the better! I’ll get this processed ASAP and I’ll be in touch to get everything organized. Welcome to the Colosseum!